


Will you get your wish?

by Kaesteranya



Category: Gintama
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-04
Updated: 2011-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-15 09:32:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All it takes is one more push.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will you get your wish?

He had loved the world, once – he had loved the world and everything in it, and made himself believe that he could somehow protect all that he held dear through hard work and sacrifice. By getting stronger, fighting harder, staying on the path of the good and the righteous.

 

It had been easy to tell himself to keep going, while he had still been surrounded by friends. Even in the face of certain defeat, even with the fact that he lost someone he knew and loved with almost every fight, he felt as though he could carry on, for so long as there was going to be just one other person at his side or just at his back by the time everything came to an end.

 

The days became weeks, however, and those weeks became months, and in ones or twos or threes or more, he watched the rest walk away from the war in the dead of night, or saw them carted off like animals to alien prisons, or to the block.

 

He remembers what it was like standing in front of a table lined with their heads clearly, as though it were only yesterday.

 

An old veteran from a war whose name nobody remembered had once told Takasugi that the voices of the dead followed a man everywhere. “It’s in the eyes,” he muttered. “Those eyes and lips, _saying_ things. _Screaming_. You can never figure out what they’re trying to tell you, unless you join them.”

 

Takasugi realized, on the day he quite certainly lost himself, that the best way of figuring out what they were trying to say was to make sure they stayed loud, hammering at your skull, pounding in your ears. That meant making more of them, with every cut of your sword, in every waking hour you had.

 

He wonders, sometimes, if he’ll ever really find out. Perhaps it isn’t important, because now that he’s carrying the weight and sound of the people he’s lost and then some inside of him, he’ll never be alone.


End file.
